


Meanwhile, Castiel...

by Looks_Clear (chrysalisdreams)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel Watches Netflix (Supernatural), Castiel's True Form (Supernatural), Episode Related, M/M, Minor Character(s), Minor Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Multi, Post-Episode: s15e20 Carry On, Post-Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:02:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27768730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chrysalisdreams/pseuds/Looks_Clear
Summary: Everything with the human souls is like this, complex and contradictory, perfect happiness only achievable with a flavoring of something else. Pamela Barnes clinks glasses with newly arrived Bela Talbot. Bela, soul purified through Rowena’s controversial program to make Hell progressive,  compares human happiness to a well-made cocktail. It’s not a Manhattan without the bittersandthe cherry.“Hell yeah,” Jo Harvelle agrees, because she knows Pamela is really a tequila girl but drinks what Bela likes, at least some of the time. Human happiness is being excited when a friend arrives in heaven while commiserating with them about having died. The afterlife is real in its own way, it’s not a Memorex heaven, but it’s a lifetime away from being alive, with all the things that can get you killed.“It’s like wow and flutter in audio,” Ash explains if you ask him. “Could be a warped record or it could be for artistic purposes. Could be both.” Ash is already trying to jail-break new heaven even though Jo has never seen him so at home.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 58





	Meanwhile, Castiel...

_Why do they call this place the Empty? This place is_ full. _It’s full of sorrow and despair playing over and over again. Of angels and demons dreaming about their regrets. Forever. - Ruby, “Destiny’s Child”_

* * *

Saying the words to Dean, saying them out loud, is the most liberating, joyful thing Cas has ever done. He sees the shock and sadness in Dean’s eyes. Yet Dean knows now. Dean has heard him. Cas has given himself permission to be happy even though the happiness can’t be perfect. It can only be good.

And it is good. Cas goes into the Empty knowing the words were said, pure and clear.

The void wraps him in negative space, black like tar goo, muffling the light of Cas’s being and tucking it away into the vastness of the Empty. It is not like falling asleep, as Castiel recalls sleep from when he was without grace. It’s not like the last time he can remember, after being stabbed in the back by Lucifer.

The lights go down as Cas is surrounded by the Empty. They come up again like a television screen in a dark room. Instead of the immersive memories of all the moments Cas could wish had gone differently, the times he took wrong action for what he thought were right reasons, incidents where he followed orders that didn’t sit right with him, all those regrets that had flowed over him so completely when he was last in the Empty, instead of all that sorrow, there is only a quiet all around him. Eternity presents him with a TV screen.

Castiel has spoken his truth and no regret is stronger than that. Instead, Eternity offers him a viewing queue, on autoplay, to while away the time. It’s a parade of animal documentaries and humorously crooked cakes, clever living spaces and life makeovers. Castiel lets all the rest fall away; he only keeps what sparks joy.

Then there is a hand on his shoulder, and a gentle, familiar voice that sounds like a billion drops of rain. “Castiel,” Jack calls him awake.

* * *

In heaven there is a bench beside a lake, where Castiel once sat and prayed to his father. Now he is sitting here beside his son. Jack seems eager to tell Castiel something.

“Jack. You’re OK.” Cas expresses relief. “How? What happened? Sam?” He pauses slightly, cherishing the name before he says it, “and Dean?”

“I’m God now.” Jack smiles brightly. “Amara is with me. And all the angels and demons that were in the Empty. The Empty is asleep.”

“They’re all… in you?” Castiel can’t help thinking about his mistake with the Leviathans.

“I’ll cure all the demons before I put their souls in heaven,” Jack says. “Cas, I need your help. With the archangels and the parts of heaven that are… bad. Will you help me?”

Castiel answers without hesitation. “Of course, Jack.”

* * *

Many of the angels are returned, and many are not. Chuck’s abandonment of his children hurt many too deeply, and Jack has done away with reconditioning, so Raphael and his followers, also Jophiel, Ishim, and a few others remain in Jack’s divinity. Uriel and Hael are among those who find hope in the new heaven. Hael contributes new landscapes that glorify the act of creation. On restored wings, she catches thermal currents over her newly painted canyons.

Jack is present without directing. The angels know His presence, but the throne room is taken apart and recast into the supports of the new heaven. The rejoicing among the angels in heaven is a balm on all past harm, so when Benjamin and Mirabel seek forgiveness, Akobel gives it.

It’s more difficult with Lily Sunder, because part of her perfect heaven is to see the angels work for the forgiveness that she does, eventually, feel. Everything with the human souls is like this, complex and contradictory, perfect happiness only achievable with a flavoring of something else. Pamela Barnes clinks glasses with newly arrived Bela Talbot. Bela, soul purified through Rowena’s controversial program to make Hell progressive, compares human happiness to a well-made cocktail. It’s not a Manhattan without the bitters _and_ the cherry.

“Hell yeah,” Jo Harvelle agrees, because she knows Pamela is really a tequila girl but drinks what Bela likes, at least some of the time. Human happiness is being excited when a friend arrives in heaven while commiserating with them about having died. The afterlife is real in its own way, it’s not a Memorex heaven, but it’s a lifetime away from being alive, with all the things that can get you killed.

“It’s like wow and flutter in audio,” Ash explains if you ask him. “Could be a warped record or it could be for artistic purposes. Could be both.” Ash is already trying to jail-break new heaven even though Jo has never seen him so at home.

The moment that black Impala pulls up to the roadhouse is one of those mixed-emotion times.

* * *

Dean drives and drives and thinks and drives.

He stops on a bridge. It’s where the road opens up and he can see the sky, and since this is heaven he stops Baby right there without pulling over, blocking the road because he can’t imagine a new heaven where that’s a dick move.

New heaven has Dean’s head spinning. Those last minutes when his life was leaking out, he got scared, because he hadn’t thought about where he might go after dying. After Jack left them, Sam had said a few times that he trusted Jack would fix the afterlife. Dean thought about that goofy kid snapping bubble gum, and he thought about Amara, and he just didn’t know.

He didn’t know and he thought he might not go to the Empty without Billie’s mad on.

As it turns out, Cas isn’t in the Empty anymore.

Dean leans on the railing of the bridge, and he can see him from here: Cas. There’s a shape in the sky bigger than the Chrysler Building, multiple wings like prisms, and a glowing head Dean can’t look at directly. He’s fucking beautiful and Dean is scared all over again. Funny how a person can be scared in perfect heaven. Funny how a heart can race without a body.

Dean stays on that bridge until Sam’s arrival. The relief Dean feels when Sam arrives is layered with guilt, not because he’s happy Sam has died, but because Sam is an excuse to focus on Sam.

“Hey there, Sammy,” he says.

“Dean,” Sam answers.

They hug, and Sam straightens, holding Dean by the shoulders. “You died too young, Dean.”

Dean shrugs. “That’s the life,” he comments.

“We’ll talk about that later,” Sam says. “Why don’t you show me around? Rowena says there’s a roadhouse where all our friends hang out.”

“Rowena?”

“You didn’t think I’d just give up and go civilian after you died, did you? Not with Eileen still hunting? Didn’t she tell you?”

“I haven’t exactly been talking to anybody,” Dean said. At Sam’s pissy reaction, he ammended, “Time’s different here. I just wanted to enjoy a drive, wait for you.”

“What about Cas?”

Dean avoids answering. “You know, Jessica and Sarah and that girl… Lori? Bet they’re all here, too.”

“Dean.”

“Get in the car, Sammy.”

* * *

When Dean is finally ready, he’s sitting by a lake, beer in a cooler by his side. Fishing, or at least making the gestures of fishing. He is in solitude, a peaceful solitude of his making, and doesn’t feel alone.

Then, he isn’t alone. He knows he has company without looking up.

“We have to talk,” Cas says.

He sounds like Cas, the deep grumble and exasperation. There’s the scrape of a second chair and Cas sits beside Dean. Dean puts the fishing rod down, casually. His hand finds Cas’s. Cas’s hand is warm and rough, and when Cas turns his hand over, palm upward, Dean intertwines his fingers with strong, agile fingers he wants touching him everywhere.

“Sorry to make you wait so long,” Dean says, the hoarseness in his voice a giveaway of emotion he is ready to show.

He turns to Cas already moving, reaching with his left hand and isn’t he lucky, Cas in this familiar form is still wearing that loose and backwards tie around his neck. Dean grabs the tie and leans in as he pulls Cas in.

Cas beats him to the kiss, though, lunging just a little faster than Dean and grabbing the back of Dean’s neck. His fingers slide upward and weave into Dean’s hair. Dean opens his mouth and pushes into the kiss, and it’s sloppy and wet and supercharged.

When they part from the kiss it’s barely that. Their mouths are apart only a sliver of distance. Their lips cool with the warm air of each other’s breaths. It’s so real. So earthly and good, and Dean moves his hand up from Cas’s tie. He cradles Cas’s head; their foreheads bump and rest together.

“I love you, too, Cas,” Dean says softly, feeling the heat of his own words fill the narrow gap between him and Cas. “An’ there’s more than that, there’s a lot more than that, but you know, I’ve never been good with sayin’ things.” He strokes Cas’s hair and is rewarded with a soft moan of longing from his angel. “So. Let me show you?”

“I have some things to show you, too,” Cas says. As Dean slides around to kneel at Cas’s feet, Cas cradles Dean’s face in his hands, and kisses him, and covers them both in the shining rainbow colors of his wings.

***


End file.
